


until the morning light reveals my ruins

by herwhiteknight



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/F, Post-Fall of Beacon, it's Just Yang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 20:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15781134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herwhiteknight/pseuds/herwhiteknight
Summary: Yang wants to believe that Blake had her reasons for leaving, but the demons in her head tell her that she's been abandoned again.





	until the morning light reveals my ruins

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to tackle a bit more of Yang's emotional distress after the fall of Beacon, so... that's all you're gonna find here. You could say that this fic will be..... yangsty.

_I trusted you. I trusted you, I trusted-_

Yang rained blow after blow down upon a trussed up hay bale, the impact of the rough straw tearing up the skin of her clenched fist. The superficial cuts streamed blood down her forearm in rivulets, droplets flinging free with every hit. The Atlas metal remained unmarred.

Sometimes she _really_ fucking hated it.

 _I gave this up for you!_ she snarled, skidding forward slightly as her metal arm sunk deep into the shoddy target. “I gave this _up,_ I lost myself _fighting_ for _you_ and you just-!” Yang let out a strangled yell, spinning around in a vicious kick and sending the straw scattering to the floor.

It wasn't enough. Yang wasn't finished.

“I tell you – _you were the only one who_ knew!” Yang cried, smashing an elbow downwards, imagining the blow to knock the wind out of the enemy of her nightmares. A kick followed as tears streamed down Yang's face, “You _knew_ what we went through – what _I_ went through to – _everyone_ leaves me! You _knew_ that!”

Another strangled scream tore at her throat, but her fight's gone. There's nothing to sustain it, not anymore. The only thing that ever fought back was something she couldn't touch, something she couldn't escape. Which was why she was out here, alone, screaming at her demons in the middle of the night.

And her demons always had a name. Tonight it was Blake.

Sinking to her knees, exhausted without the aid of her semblance to continue to fuel the rage, Yang started to weep. “Why didn't you ever tell me you were going to leave? You knew that I... you made me believe that things were different – that everyone else...”

She looked at her clenched fists, her human hand shaking and giving way to tremors. Giving way to weakness. The other, seeming entirely too strong for the state Yang was in. Too clinical, too unbroken. She grazed her bloody forearm across the metal palm, staining it with her humanity.

Better. Now it seemed a little more like it _belonged_ to her. Something that could actually share her pain, something that could actually understand.

She laughed bitterly at herself, the sound echoing hollowly around in the large empty space of the barn. “I'm _really_ trying, Blake,” she muttered, “This just feels very familiar – and you _would_ know. Because I _told_ you. And when you came to the dance and you held me-”

Her whole body tensed, and not for the time Yang found herself wondering if emotional trauma could be enough to activate her semblance. It sure hurt a lot worse than any physical damage she's ever been dealt.

“You were the one person who always seemed like they could understand, you know?” Yang sighed, gathering up broken straws, swirling her fingers, both stained and weak, through the broken spears of the battle. “Of course there's Ruby,” she continued, “But I've always had to look after _her,_ and it's never... I can't put this on her. Any of this. But you...”

_You were different._

The thought choked her. She _thought_ Blake was different. She thought that, just maybe, Blake could be a person that Yang could need, that Yang could rely on. A person that Yang didn't always have to be strong for, but rather would gather strength from instead.

“Maybe it was all in my head,” she said quietly, dropping the straw and staring out past the window. The moon was still high, but faded purples were beginning to scar the black sky and neither of those colours were things that Yang wanted to think about.

“Maybe,” she started, standing slowly and putting her back to the window as she began sweeping up the straw massacre. “Maybe I just... made you into something you're not. Maybe I saw too much good in you because I-”

She couldn't even feel anything as those words almost crawled their way out past her lips once more. The confession had been rattling around in her head in the first few weeks since the fall of Beacon, keeping her fanciful visions company back when she had a spark of hope left that Blake would come back for her. But those daydreams fell like golden leaves, and the tenderly whispered “I love you” turned into glass, shattering at their feet, screaming “I _loved_ you, how could you leave?!” instead.

“But you left. I _trusted_ you – and you left,” she said, worn out, finally feeling the ache of exertion catch up to her. She swept the last of the straw off to the side, indistinguishable and nearly invisible in the bare light of the twilight beginning to stream through the windows. Like it never happened.

“And I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you if you do come back.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I may post a "companion" Blake fic if I get inspired later.


End file.
